Reflections
by Loopstagirl
Summary: Who is it that he sees looking back at him?


**Disclaimer: I own nothing, all rights belong to their respective owners.**

**Just could not get this out of my head.**

"Merlin, come on, I haven't got all day." His master's sharp words made Merlin blink and he shook himself out of the stupor he had found himself in since the end of the battle. Glancing over, he winced when he saw that Arthur splattered with blood – although how much was his, Merlin couldn't tell – and that his eyes were haunted and hollow looking. His servant wasn't surprised, the attack had been ferocious and had come out of nowhere, they had only had just enough time to assemble the knights.

Even though they had been ready in order to meet the enemy on the field before they had reached Camelot, the losses had been great. The enemy hadn't even identified themselves before their sorcerers had let loose with deadly streams of fire that had torn through Arthur's defences. Screams had filled Merlin's ears, yet his sight had been consumed by his king. Arthur's blazing cloak had come off in one movement, his knights following suit as Excalibur was lifted towards the sky. As the sword came whizzing through the air, signalling for them to drive back their foes, Merlin had found himself falling back.

It was so easy to just let the others stride past him, a confidence in their step that wasn't in their eyes. Their fear was more than apparent for anyone to see; the fact that they were going against sorcerers always had a way of striking fear into the heart of Camelot that Merlin knew he would never understand. Every time a foe made them tremble with fear, he shook with anger, knowing that it was doing nothing to help his own cause. Every time they forced him to use his magic to kill in order to protect his destiny, he was turning Arthur away from Albion.

But rather than just running in the way that Arthur believed he had done, Merlin had doubled back around. He had crept behind enemy lines, his magic concealing his presence until it was too late. Anyone that did see him coming immediately fell to his flashing eyes, with far more grace and far less noise than the ones facing Arthur's sword. It took him no time at all until he had located each of the sorcerers, and his ever growing powers made getting into their heads easy. They weren't granted the sight of the enemy destroying them before they collapsed; their magic fizzling away into nothing. As soon as the magic had been taken out of the equation, Arthur's men had quickly driven away the attackers, their expertise prevailing.

The whole battle had been over in almost moments once the remaining men realised they no longer had the advantage, or the protection, of magic. The King quickly took control of the situation, sending his best trackers and hunters to make sure they were driven firmly from Camelot's land before finding his servant. Merlin had almost been back where they had started by this point, and there was tight smile on his face as he listened to his master tease him about being nowhere near the battle.

_If only Arthur knew..._

Some days, it was so hard to keep his magic a secret. It was because of him that the battle had been won, Merlin knew this. They would have all been fried if it wasn't for his gift creeping out from the sidelines like a vine, removing the threat that steel alone would have no chance against. He didn't even want the gratitude or anything like that; he just wanted someone to know so that he didn't have to put up with their friendly banter about him always being left behind. Sometimes, if he was honest, that was how he had felt.

Yet, he dutifully followed Arthur without a word, both being worn out from the battle in order to say anything anyway. With well practised ease, the king was relieved of his armour and wiped clean of any blood before Merlin had left for the night, knowing the Queen was now the one to nurse Arthur through the night in the way he had once done. Not that he minded – they had never done well when they had both had a restless night, and Merlin would much rather face a grouchy Arthur after spending a night in his own bed. Gaius hadn't been present when he had arrived back at the chambers, no doubt still caught up with dealing with the wounded from the battle. Merlin was glad though. It meant that he could escape into his bedroom, and pour out the cold water into the small basin without questions being asked over what had happened, something he didn't particularly want to relieve right now.

Staring into his reflection, the warlock had to shiver slightly. The water rippled, distorting the face looking back at him until Merlin was no longer sure whether he was looking at himself or someone completely different. The figure looking back at him sent alarming thoughts shooting through Merlin's head almost quicker than he could comprehend them. Who was it that was looking back at him? Who had he been whilst out there on the battlefield? Was he still the same person now?

It wasn't Merlin-the-servant, ready to obey Arthur's every command with a quick comment and an easy grin that was staring at him from the basin. That Merlin knew when duty came above all else, he knew when to bow his head in the respect he truly felt for the man Arthur was becoming and when to simply shut up and get on with his chores. After all, being Arthur's manservant was the only job he had ever known since he had arrived in Camelot, and it was a role he could slip into as easily as blinking. If it had been that reflection looking back at him, his eyes would have been cast down, yet a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, looking as if it was threatening to burst through at any moment.

But nor was it Merlin-the-friend, either. He wasn't looking at the man that had been able to befriend nobles, princes and commoners alike, using those bonds of friendship to elevate men into a position they could have only dreamt of before. It wasn't the carefree and innocent man that the knights seemed to want to protect, the only one who could withstand a night in the tavern with Gwaine. This wasn't the reflection of someone who could tease the king in front of his knights, knowing that he could give as well as he got and that no one would ever deny that. For if that had been the man looking back at him, he would have met his reflection head on, his eyes sparkling with mirth and the smile more prominent.

As the water continued to ripple, Merlin wasn't even seeing the powerful warlock who had been present on the battlefield. It wasn't the face of a man haunted by the power at his disposal, the man who had just taken lives all in the name of destiny. He wasn't seeing the smear of blood across his cheek, or the way the haunted look in his eye was hidden only by the blazing gold illustrating the power that ran through his veins. Should he have raised his hand to his face, he wouldn't have seen the magic almost crackling of his fingertips in preparation to make sure that Albion was created, no matter what. If the water had stilled on _that_ Merlin, then he would have barely seen a reflection at all before the water changed state, steaming softly as it obeyed his very thoughts as the magic set to work in heating it.

Finally though, the water did still once again and Merlin frowned as he stared at the face looking back at him. He couldn't work out what side of himself that he was seeing. There didn't seem to be the defining features of any particular side to him showing, and Merlin found that his hands were clenching the side of the basin in something that could have almost resembled fear. He _always_ knew which side of himself to show, it was like an instinct as to which face he let the world see.

But right now, he was simply looking at himself. The whole man, not one who was pretending. None of the other "Merlin's" were truly him, not even the warlock side. But the figure staring back at him out of the bowl was the full man, the combination of all the separate parts. His breathing began to quicken as Merlin felt his head tilt towards the water more, wanting to see more of the man that was constantly hidden away, sometimes even from himself.

"Merlin!" The sharp tone could only belong to Arthur, and Merlin jumped again, accidentally knocking the bowl as he called out to his king. By the time he glanced back at the water once more, the figure from before had gone. Instead, a smile was tugging at his lips and his eyes were dropping.

Merlin the servant had returned even as he walked out of his room to see what the king wanted.

He just hoped that one day; the rest of Camelot would be able to see him for who he truly was rather than just one of his many acts. And when that day came about, he would look in the water and he would see the image that had just been granted to him now. Maybe it was a sign that his positions were beginning to blend themselves together, even if it was just only for him? Maybe the day was coming when he would look in the water once more and he would like what he saw looking back.

He would see the full man reflected at him. And when that day came, he would smile.


End file.
